


user discretion advised

by artistsRevival



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Coming of Age, Dominant Karkat, Headcanons out the ass, In a way, Karkat With Psionics, Light Masochism, M/M, MIND THE RATING CHANGES, Mind fuckery, Multi, Rating will change, Sudden Acquisition of Previously Unanticipated Powers, Tongue Piercing, Xeno, headcanons, welp, wet dreams, will soon be illustrated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistsRevival/pseuds/artistsRevival
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You seem to have a normal rank on the hemospectrum. Your blood says otherwise.</p><p>When you have a sudden, alarming acquisition of trippy-ass mind powers, who's the first person you call? The only douchebag you know with the same kind of trippy-ass mind powers, of course.</p><p>(newest chapter hopefully explains things! currently in going-back-and-editing mode, but updates will hopefully come back. don't quote me on it, though.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. User Enter

**Author's Note:**

> i seem to be gifted at shitting out 2000 word fanfics in an hour.
> 
> going by the headcanons that karkat's mutation is purely aesthetic, as in only affecting blood pigment, and that unmutated, he'd be a limeblood.
> 
> karkat with psionics is fun

\---USER ENTER: KARKAT VANTAS---

\---[Y]|N---

\---ENTER PASSWORD---

\---*********---

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and up until now, your life hadn't been too much of a major ass-backwards clusterfuck.

Tonight, however, two and a half nights after your eighth wriggling day, is the day in which all of that changes.

Really, you hadn't thought that much of it - pailing drones in a while, your shit’s gonna be wrecked, better enjoy your last half-sweep alive - but no, apparently. Your genetic makeup has to kick you right in the shame globes.

Currently, you’re crouched in the blasted remains of your respite block, nursing a migraine that feels as though your head is splitting, as well as your nutrition sack and suddenly, you’re a lot more sympathetic towards Sollux. Bright cherry blood drips from your nose and ears.

\---fifteen minutes ago

A few minutes ago, life was fine.

You were sitting at your husktop, fucking around with some bullshit program or another, failing to program anything useful. It really wasn't anything out of the ordinary. You happened to be chatting with Sollux. You can't remember what it was about, possibly something about how shitty your hacking was.

Before you could reply to Sollux’s snarky asshole comment, you felt a headache coming on. You just sort of swore loudly, telling Sollux to shut his face gash, you’d be back in like, twenty minutes. You got up out of your chair, starting to make your way toward the ablution block for some pain meds.

Without warning, your gut lurched, and the space behind your horns flashed, as though on fire. You cried out, dropping to your knees and putting your hands behind your horns. You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t that.

Something ran down your arms, and you could smell ozone. You held your arms out, and... Sparks? Bright, lime-green sparks ran down your arms.

The more panicked you got, the more sparks flashed out, and eventually you couldn’t see your arms for the green glow.

It was at that point that your vision greened out entirely, and all you could feel was agony and light.

\---present

You’re still curled up, head splitting and blood dripping onto your carpet. You can still feel the sparks on your back and arms and horns and eyes. All you think is, someone, please just slice my fucking head off.

It’s ten minutes before you can stand up. Your head still feels like it’s been through a trash compactor, but you’ll survive, you suppose. Your ears ring loudly. You pull yourself up, flinching as a particularly violent burst of sparks jolts from your left horn to your shoulder. Something crashes, and you jump.

You look around warily. You’re not sure what fell, but once you look around, you realize your whole respiteblock is in a state of disarray. Somehow, your husktop survived the... whatever it was. Your world is tinted green at the edges.

"What the fuck," are the first words out of your mouth. You repeat them more vehemently, brows creasing. You swing your arm, and a jolt goes through it, twinging between your horns.

You see a random lamp get enveloped in green sparks and go flying.

With a shriek, you jump back, pulling your arm in close to you and growling defensively. Your eyes are wide.

In disbelief, you stare at your arm. Green crackles lazily down it.

Hesitantly, not daring to believe it, you stretch an arm out and swipe to the side.

You shriek again as your torn-up sofa goes sliding to the side, enveloped in green sparks.

You gulp, shakily straightening and dashing for the ablution block. Your hands hit the counter, and you stare your reflection in the eyes.

You kind of look like shit. Your shirt is in burnt rags, cherry blood is dried on your face, you’ve got shrapnel marks everywhere, and your hair is blown back entirely from your face.

What catches you, though, is your eyes.

You’ve lost the yellow corneas and grey irises, you’ve lost the deep black, slitted pupils - what’s left reminds you eerily of Sollux.

Two shimmery, lime-green orbs stare back at you, wide and unbelieving.

You promptly faint.

\---five minutes later

Once you’re up from your fainting session, you’re on your feet, pumpbiscuit going seventy lightyears a minute. What the hell happened? Why in the name of fuck did it happen to you, of all unlucky douchewads? Most of all, what now?

The last question leaves an unpleasant tingling in your stomach as you realize just what you have to do.

You settle down at your husktop, shaking slightly, and pull up a conversation with Sollux.

CG: SOLLUX.

CG: SOLLUX, GODDAMMIT.

CG: OF ALL THE TIMES FOR YOU TO BE AN UNREACHABLE ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST.

TA: chiill your rumble 2phere2 kk

TA: what2 got your pantiie2 iin a twii2t

CG: YOU KNOW WHERE MY HIVE IS, RIGHT?

TA: yeah why

TA: thii2 ii2 kiinda vaguely freakiing me out bro

CG: JESUS SHIT, JUST GET YOUR SCRAWNY, OVER-CAFFEINATED ASS OVER HERE.

CG: ALSO, DON’T CULL ME ON SIGHT, THANKS.

You are really thankful this asshole has seen your blood.

\---annoying timeskip

You’re not sure what you do between the time Sollux affirms his travel to your hive and his actual arrival, but you’re pretty sure it was just mostly staring in a mirror and attempting not to cry. And failing miserably. Red tears well up in the newly-psionic eyes in the mirror.

Hey, man, you just received the shock of your life. Give yourself a break.

When your bifurcated friend lands in your hive, just casually launching himself through a broken window, you dry your eyes and hold your hands over them. The green sparks have stopped for the most part, so there’s an upside to the current situation.

You stumble into the destroyed block, brushing your hair over your eyes so you can just see, but Sollux can’t.

“Hey, KK,” he starts, turning toward you and shutting his red-and-blue sparks down. “What’th the deal, athhole? I wath enjoying a perfectly hellscreech-free night. Altho, what in the fuck happened to your rethpiteblock?” You roll your eyes and snarl at him.

“That’s the whole reason I called you over, assmunch.” You gesture about wildly, wincing as you feel a faint crackle down your spine. “Disappointingly, you’re the only dipshit I’m in contact with that may know something about what in the Mother Grub’s fiery waste chute is going on.”

“You’re babbling, bro. I probably know like everything about what the hell thith ith, becauthe I happen to be the thmartetht athhole you know, but you’re gonna have to pipe up and tell me what’th going on.”

“I -” You press your hand to your forehead as he starts exploring your destroyed block. “Yeah, okay, since I have no fucking clue what actually happened, I’ll just - show you, or something.” A spark goes through your right horn, and you yelp. Your hair flips out of your eyes as you jump. Sollux turns around just in time to -

“Dude, what the hell wath - okay, holy shit.” His voice drops to a whisper as he catches sight of your eyes.

He gets up, approaching you like you were a scared animal. Maybe you were. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you probably look like a major mess. No, you know you look like a major mess.

“Did you not inform me of thith for a reathon, or -” he breaks off. “No, thith jutht happened, didn’t it, I mean your eyeth were normal before now.” He’s very close to your face, and he’s taken his glasses off; you’re eye to eye now.

Without warning, his horns spark and arches of red and blue hit you just behind your horns.

A jolt runs down your spine, and primal instinct takes over; you lash back, full force, green blasting him back a good fifteen feet before he’s able to respond and send his own wall out. You felt - something, something great beneath his skin. A vast reservoir of red and blue. You’re faintly scared by it. Your psionics diminish, and you can feel the pressure of the exertion pressing between your horns.

“What the fuck was that?” you screech at him.

“Chill, I had to be sure, it’th not like your perfectly normal friend goeth and getth himthelf pthionicth that rival yourth every day!” He straightens up, glasses long discarded, and you realize that well, you two are now tied together; his path isn’t leaving yours.

You realize that he’s sort of terrified too, you can see it in his bicoloured eyes. He... really hadn’t ever experienced someone that could rival him, you realize. It sends a fracture through the foundation of his whole defense plan.

He clears his throat, still wary of you. Straightens his back. “Tho, when did thith happen?” He’s in work mode.

“Um, right after I trolled you.” Your voice sounds small.

“Okay. At leatht you kept that firewall I thet up.” He grumbles the last bit, flopping down in your husktop chair and opening a few windows. His fingers fly over the keyboard, eventually pulling up an article from a shady-looking website.

“Thith ith thome pretty trippy shit, KK.” He scans through, “hmm”ing at certain parts.

“Are you going to actually tell me what the hell is going on?” You almost whine this part.

“You’re not gonna believe me if I tell you,” he warns you.

You scoff. “At this point, I’m willing to believe practically anything.” He snorts.

“Okay, sure. Try thith.” The yellowblood gestures at the screen. “You know thothe thtorieth and shit about the limebloodth?”

“Yeah, how the Empress wiped them out for the good of Alternia or something.”

“Yeah, well, okay, tho the ‘official’ reathon behind the genothide thing wath population control,” he starts. “Almotht everyone who’th done any rethearch on it knowth that it’th becauthe they couldn’t control them. Firtht of all, they were, like, the ultimate goddamn moirailth; they could probably shoosh an adult violetblood gone rage mode at thikth thweepth. The Empire didn’t like their highbloodth being controlled, for one. For another,” he frowns, “apparently, their average pthionic levelth rivalled that of the betht yellowbloodth in exithtanthe. Altho, their pthi matureth really thtrangely - at about eightish thweeps, it all blathtth in at onthe. They theem to be without pthi beforehand.”

“Yeah, okay, but I’m not picking up on what the bulge-blistering fuck this has to do with me.” You snarl at him.

“Hold it, KK. Anyway. Tho, for awhile, I’ve thorta had thith whole idea that hey, maybe your mutation ith literally jutht aeththetic. Any other non-mutated blood cathte characterithticth would make it into your geneth.” He pauses, running a hand through his hair.

“What are you - oh,” you realize.

“Yeah. I dunno, it would make thenthe. You run a bit cooler blood than I do, but warmer than NP’th. That’d plathe you at about the thame rank ath a limeblood.” The psion snorts. “Not to mention you’re literally the biggetht palethlut I know. You’ve literally shooshed thome of my beeth, KK.”  You run a hand through your hair.

This is a lot to fucking process.

“Firtht of all, however awkward thith ith going to be,” Sollux starts, “it lookth like I’m going to have to actually teach you how to control thith shit.” Your stomach clenches. Oh, god. “Thecond of all, if you ever conthider thnarking at me about migraineth again, I want you think back to today.” He smirks.

That prick.

**  
This perigee is gonna be pretty interesting.**


	2. Warning Label

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreaming is a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mind the rating changes!!!

Sollux stayed at your hive through the day. It wasn’t the first time you’d shared a ‘coon, but you couldn’t help but worry that you were going to like, zap him or some shit while asleep. 

When you wake, you can feel a slightly uncomfortable buzz beneath your skin. Sollux is already up and roaming, floating things back into place around your block. Or, well, not exactly in place.

He seems to be grouping things around the room, pushing shit to the sides and keeping two or three in the middle of the floor. The psion had blocked up the window you blasted through - thankfully, your wall hadn’t been taken down. The noises he’s making send twinges through your horns, and you snarl as you pull yourself up and over the lip of the ‘coon.

Slime drips in your eyes, and you realize subconsciously that it now matches your eyes. You swing your legs over the side, boxers sticking to your legs. Somehow, Sollux had gotten entirely dressed. How long had he been up? The sun is barely down.

“Hey, nookwhiff,” you call to him, voice rough from sleep, “is there a reason you’re slamming shit around in my hive at ungodly hours in the evening?” You think you imagine his slight flush.

“Get uthed to it, KK. If I have to teach you how to do thith shit, it’th gonna be on my termth.” He snorts and rearranges a few more things before turning to you, red-and-blue sparks dying. “Go take a shower and get some clotheth on,” he says. “Altho, try for short thleeveth, thinthe you’d probably light long thleeveth on fire or thomething.” 

You roll your eyes and make your way into your ablution block. He mutters something, but you’re too far away to catch it.

\---ten minutes later  
You’re standing in your respite block, in the cleared space Sollux left, in an old t-shirt from your wriggling days; you wore everything about seven sizes too huge, so it actually fits you now. You’re kind of self-conscious about the amount of scars left on your arms from fucking around with your sickles, but when you remember that Sollux has just as many from psionic outbursts, you’re mostly set at ease. Apart from the fact that his slight frame reminds you painfully of your buried feelings.

You’re kind of nervous when he looks up from your husktop, waving you over. When you’re by his side, he gestures at the screen.

“Tho, firtht of all, we’re gonna do a grub-to-wriggler-level PQ tetht, shouldn’t actually be too hard,” he says distractedly. Work mode Sollux can be a metric pain in the ass, and you grimace in anticipation of the days to come. “Thecond of all, levitation. Shit’th a pain in the ath when you can’t control it.” 

You grunt in affirmation. “Treat me like a wriggler and I’ll punch you in the bulge,” you glare at him.

He snickers. “Ehehe, bulgeth, KK. Double trouble, bitch.” 

You’re not thinking of what’s between his legs, not at all. You’re totally not imagining two yellow tentacles, dripping and - oh, fuck. Your face is probably bright red now, and the humming below your skin ramps up. You snarl at him in retaliation. 

Sollux’s snickers just get louder as he stands up and stretches his arms. You smack him in the arm as he directs you to the center of the room. (You’re subconsciously hoping that you didn’t imagine the yellow dusting across his cheeks.)

“Alright, thith ith gonna be thuper fuckin’ weird, tho don’t freak out.” He stands in front of you, horns crackling faintly, and your heart’s going a little too fast for your liking. 

His hand comes up, rests on your forehead for a fraction of a second, and your vision explodes in green. 

\---two minutes later

When you come to, you’re kneeling on the floor, clutching your head, and Sollux is rubbing his temples, red and blue sparks still skittering along his horns and eyes. 

“That’th. Well.” He sounds kinda breathless and shocked. “According to literally every Empire-endorthed tetht, you’re like, three pointth lower than me.” 

“Which means what?” Your voice sounds raw and your throat hurts a bit.

“Which meanth it’th ridiculouthly high.” He rolls his eyes at you. “Or, you know, the exthact average for limebloodth. Like I thaid.” You’d say you’re skeptical, but now you’re uncertain. 

You’re both silent for awhile, as you both nurse dripping noses and headaches. It’s a sort of uncomfortable silence. 

You’d known that Sollux was higher than average for awhile, and you learned the last perigee that had his PQ been recorded, he’d have been known as the highest-level in hundreds of sweeps. 

You don’t know how he stands the constant crackling of nerves, like a light show beneath the dermis. Or the tingeing of colour at the corners of your vision - his must be so much worse, considering the headache-inducing dichotomy of his psi. Oh, wait - his glasses actually probably balance that out, covering his entire field of vision, instead of just the corners. The glasses sound like a good idea.

The silence continues, and the yellowblood across from you is staring into his hands, looking troubled. 

What you don’t realize is the fact that your psi level is breaking down the very foundations of what he’s lived by.

You’re the first one to break the silence. “You should probably clean that shit up,” you say, gesturing at his nose.

“Yeah, whatever.” He sounds distracted as he gets up, wiping his upper lip and brushing his pants off. 

His demeanor is really irking you. He’s not usually so quiet. It’s putting you off.

“Sollux. Dude. What’s with the mopey bullshit you’re pulling?” You pull yourself up, running a hand through your messier-than-usual hair.

“Shut up, I’m not mopey.” He snarls at you. 

“I know your moods, you wreck of a troll, you’re moping your ass off right now. Look, there goes the void that your ass is.” You roll your eyes and pick at your slightly singed shirt. 

“‘Void that my ath ith.’ KK, are you admitting to thtaring at my ath? Fucking knew it, you’re after my bulgeth. Be a bit more direct, and it might get you thomewhere.” He smirks at you as your face reddens. Goddammit, you knew this was a bad idea. Just when you were tamping down that annoying little flush-crush of yours. 

“Are you literally flirting with me after I just got smacked in the face by biology and blasted my respite block to bits. Is this a thing that is happening. You have no shame.” When he snickers, you’re crossing your fingers that he’s coming up from his work mode. 

“Shame? Got none, what gave you the idea that I ever had any?” He elbows your arm. The two inches he has on you infuriate you as he rests an arm on your shoulder.

This round-about game of quadrant chicken is going to drive you insane. You can’t tell if he’s black for you, red for you, or pale for you, or any at all. Leave it to Sollux to create such a convoluted relationship. 

As you step into your ablution block, he claims the sink, pulling his shirt off and dousing his face in cold water. Something catches your eye, and your breath.

Across his torso, there’s a huge, shiny-white scar, lightning-shaped and sprawling. It seems to start at his right shoulder, and spider-webs down the front of his chest, to his left hip and around to the small of his back. It looks like it would have been excruciatingly painful, as it’s run over one of his four grub scars. 

He catches you staring. “It’th from when I wath a dumbath wriggler. Challenged an almotht-off-planet pthion at like, four thweepth. Caught me in the shoulder and thankfully he wath a ruthtblood. If he’d have been a purpleblood, I’d be dead, probably.” His face is noticeably yellow, and he seems to realize this, as he shoves it into a nearby towel to dry it off. 

You take your turn next, pulling off your own shirt and rinsing your face. You forget about the long, ropy line across the front of your hips and up to your collarbone. 

“I shared my weird thcar thtory, it’th your turn. The fuck did you do to get that thing?” His face hasn’t lost its flush. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was dicking around with my sickles. Basically.” Your voice drops. It’s not a fun memory.

“Bathically? There’th a thtory behind that. C’mon.” 

“I - it was when I met Gamzee. He... really wasn’t in a good place.” The memory of his own fucked-up mind powers flashes through your brain, the fear coursing through your veins and the damage he caused you with your own sickle. 

Sollux is silent for a moment. “Thorry,” he says, quietly. It's uncharacteristic of him.

"Yeah, it's fine." Your voice mirrors his in volume, and you sit in the ablution block in silence until your face is clean of the red you hate so much.  
\---ten minutes later

You’re standing in the middle of your respite block once more, but this time, one of your novels is enveloped in red and blue. 

Another novel of yours looks like it’s burning and surrounded in green fire, hovering inches above your hand, also covered in green flames.

“Yeah, that’th it. Not bad.” Sollux gives you a surprisingly genuine smile, slowly rotating his own book. Show-off. Yours is sort of stuttering and twitching above your hand.

There’s a fair amount of tension between your horns, and the other psion notices your frown. “You’re concentrating too hard,” he says, “thtop focuthing on keeping it in plathe, jutht kinda feel it floating there.” You snarl at him, glaring at his effortless book acrobatics. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumble, and you attempt to release the pressure on your book.

It works slowly, surprising you as the flames’ height lowers and the tension lessens and your eyes widen.

It’s kind of effortless, now. You can... you can actually feel the book, just as if you were holding it in your hands, except all around. The psi was an extension of your body, you realize now. You know why Sollux uses his all the time.

“Heh,” you hear him snicker. You look at him questioningly. “Nothing, you’re jutht kinda adorable when you’re interethted by thomething.” 

You snarl at him and kick him in the shin. He snorts loudly and shocks you, dropping the book and holding it in his hand.

\---seven hours later

By now, you’ve stripped and you’re slipping into ‘coon. Sollux makes no moves to join you, instead he’s unloading his portable husktop and typing away. 

“Dude, thleep,” he says as he catches you staring. “I’ll be fine.” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t stay up all day, douchewipe.” Without another comment, you slip under the sopor.

\---eight minutes later

You’re floating in the air, surrounded by your green flames, tension between your horns. Sollux is floating effortlessly beside you, smiling and encouraging you. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but you know he’s praising you.

You grin at him, concentration increasing as your psionics stutter.

You start as he begins floating fluidly toward you. Confusedly, you open your mouth to question him, but - 

His mouth closes over yours, dual tongues snaking into your mouth and twining with your own. You whimper as your psi starts failing. He zaps you as you lose altitude. 

“C’mon, KK,” he says, voice smooth. It has a strange, metallic tone to it, as though he’s talking through a tube. He grins at you, hands slipping into your shirt. “It’th a dithtraction tetht.” You whine and force more psi through your horns.

His mouth attaches to your neck, biting here and there and smoothing his tongue over the small marks left behind. You groan as his hands wander to your waistband, and your psi stutters.

You receive a shock, and your voice goes up an octave. The tension between your horns ramps up, but what he’s doing - oh, god. It feels so good. Tears prick at your eyes from the combination of pain and pleasure.

Just has his hands go to unbutton your jeans, you -

\---three seconds later

\- wake up. Your eyes blow wide, your bulge aches, and you groan in frustration.

Fuck.


	3. User Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux rediscovers, for the latest in an uncountably-large number of times, that the universe fucking hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehe. here, this is shippy as FUCK to make up for not updating for so long.

You sigh as you pull yourself into a sitting position. The humming beneath your skin still hasn’t ceased; if anything, it’s ramping up. It feels like every part of your body is running over a static-electric surface, sparking faintly and shifting. Including your neglected bulge.

Well, you suppose this isn’t going away for awhile. With a resigned sigh, you pull yourself up enough to glance around. Sollux isn’t in the room; you can hear the ablution sprinkler running.  
With a sigh, your hand slips down to wrap around your writhing bulge, and your breath hitches in appreciation.

\---USER SWITCH: SOLLUX CAPTOR---  
\---[Y]/N---  
\---ENTER PASSWORD---  
\---************---

\---six minutes later

You step out of the ablution trap, towelling your wet hair carefully, so as not to catch the towel on your horns. Wrapping it around your waist, you lean over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

Your look better, you suppose; your hair isn’t ridiculously greasy, at least. 

However, your eyes are still dull, the dark circles beneath deeper than they’d been in a perigee. You’d slept fitfully that day, lacking in sopor, because you weren’t sure if you could stand sleeping almost-nude beside your flush/pitch crush of the past sweep, who you’d just seen sweaty and shirtless. You entirely ignored the twinge that had shot to your crotch. 

You mean, that wasn’t your only reason for not sleeping more than three hours; you mean, your downswing was convincing you that you didn’t deserve it, that you deserved every moment of sleep lost. The voices have been growing stronger, and you’re not sure why. Shit hasn’t been easy recently.

You sigh and brush your fingers through your hair, hoping to tame it into some sort of order before slipping the last day’s pants and t-shirt on, not bothering with boxers since you intend to fly back to your hive to get actual clothes, anyway.

Flipping the towel over the towel bar, you slip out of the ablution block, making your way back to KK’s respite block, when you hear something from the door. You stop, leaning against the wall, and you listen in.

It sounds like - gruff panting, sopor splashing. Your face flashes yellow as you realize that, on the other side of this door, KK is stroking his bulge.

Without thinking about the ramifications - namely, your bulges getting interested - you imagine what, exactly, was going on behind that door.

Your mind contrives a scene - Karkat’s leaning against the rim of his recuperacoon, green slime moving slightly as his hand twines with the - thick? long? who knows - tentacle, head thrown back in bliss. His eyes, no longer yellow and grey, but now a supernatural green, are scrunched up, and his pants and moans wrack his body. The toned muscle ripples, that hidden strength that you had never expected, the first time you saw him shirtless. That scar is a shining testament to his strength. He’d gone up against a purpleblood - a raging one at that - and survived. 

You imagine his eyes sparking, green fire flowing from the edges. You’d like that flame around your wrists and hips, your throat, your bulge. His hands would roam your body, and maybe he’d remove the psionics from your wrists, to hold them against the wall with his own physical strength. 

You’re dragged back to reality by the pain of biting your knuckle to keep a moan at bay. Your bulges are definitely up and awake, now, and ready to play. Red and blue sparks fly from your eyes, and you bite your lip. The moans on his side are getting broken, and frantic, and -

“S-Sollux -” His whimper breaks off. You gasp, and vaguely hope that he didn’t hear that.

You’re in shock. Your name? What the fuck is he doing, getting off to - you, apparently. What’s attractive about you?

You’re too tall, and all elbows. You’re scrawny, and the small amount of muscle on your body is the only thing disguising your ribs and spine. Your teeth are fucked beyond belief, you do fuckall with your hair, and your attitude is probably the worst in existence. What could he possibly like about you? Or hate, you suppose.

You’ve given him plenty of reason to hate you platonically, and you regret every moment of it, but you can’t seem to be able to get your fucked-up, knee-jerk, automatically assholy reactions under wraps. 

You sit against the wall, breathing shallow and pumpbiscuit-beat frantic. You hear him grumble, the filter in his ‘coon turning on, and you take a shaky breath. 

You stand up, face bright yellow, and try to compose your expression before you open the door.

Karkat glances up from his ‘coon, and he looks so damn _composed_ , it’s not fucking fair.

“I - well - thinthe I’ll be thtaying awhile, I think, right, I’m gonna - fly over to my hive and get thome clotheth, not that - I intend to thtay for that long, I mean, it’th your hive - um, yeah, I’ll be going now,” you babble out, discomfort evident, and you stride across his block before climbing up through the busted window. Your psionics flare to life, internal compass righting itself, and you start on your way back to your hive.

\---twenty minutes later

You travel pretty damn fast, considering your distance from KK. His hive is, by foot, about two hours away. But what self-respecting psionic walks anywhere?

You slow and stop in front of your block’s level in the communal hivestem, psi reaching out and unlocking the window. Landing inside your block, you shut the window, turn around, and collapse against the wall.

Between your legs is still sticky and slick, and you’re certain there’s a stain on your jeans. Your bulges have since retreated, but there’s still pent-up irritation, a buzzing between your horns and in your nook, that alerts you to the fact that with the slightest prodding, they’d be out to play again. 

Your hands come to the sides of your head, and you groan.

Why does this shit have to be so _complicated?_

One hand wanders beneath your waistband, and your mind fills with images of red-flushed skin and sounds of a gravelly, smoky voice.

\---USER SWITCH: KANAYA MARYAM---  
\---[Y]/N---  
\---ENTER PASSWORD---  
\---********---  
\---PASSWORD INCORRECT. OBSERVE INSTEAD?---  
\---[Y]/N---

A tall, elegant jadeblood sits at her husktop. Her face is scrunched, frowning pensively at the screen; her black-painted claws twist a red skirt between them. Her right heel taps against the floor.

Upon a closer look, her screen reveals an app named Trollian; a list of chumps are lit up, while two are offline. Her cursor is hovering over one that reads: carcinoGeneticist. 

“What could he possibly be up to?” she mumbles. She makes a little “hmph” sound as she gets up.

\---CEASE OBSERVATION---  
\---USER SELECT: KARKAT VANTAS---  
\---[Y]/N---  
\---ENTER PASSWORD---  
\---*********---

You shake your head as your friend babbles out some explanation and jumps out your window. Confusion muddles your thoughts as you pull yourself up and out of your ‘coon. His face had been suspiciously yellow, and his eyes had sparked strangely.  
Why had that been? Unless...

Oh, fuck. Had he heard you?

Your face flushes red. He’d left because he was disgusted, you know it. You’d be surprised if he even came back.

You try to calm your racing thoughts, but they struggle just beneath the surface.

Well, no helping it now. If he wasn’t back by that aftermidnight, you’d troll him. Until then - 

It’s seven in the evening, and you really need a damn shower. 

You stand up, slipping out of the ‘coon, and wipe off excess sopor as you make your way to your ablution block. 

You catch sight of something red-and-blue on your floor, and you realize Sollux left his damn boxers here.

You roll your eyes, face flushing slightly, and you decide to ignore that as you slip your own off and step into the ablution trap, turning on the sprinkler. 

The hot water rolls down your back, rinsing sopor from your skin and working its way to your scalp. It’s a pleasant sensation on your horns, warm and fuzzy. You let it work over your body and smooth most of your frustrations away, but you can’t help the stress headache making its way into your think-pan. 

Fucking _Sollux._ Why does he make shit this damn hard? You could just barely tell, but he’d slept without sopor, and not well. The dark circles under his eyes were darker than yours, which is saying something.

You stretch, cramped muscles complaining, and grab for your keratin-detergent. 

\---two hours later

You glance up from the novel you’d been reading as Sollux floats down from the busted window, full bag in hand and hair looking windswept. 

“Welcome back, asshole. What took two hours?” You squint. The green tint at the edge of your vision is fucking you up big time. 

He glares at you, unimpressed, as he straightens his glasses. “Firtht of all, fuck you, and thecond of all, you’re gonna be thanking me.” He throws the bag on the couch beside you and plops down, unzipping it and rifling through it before coming upon a small, oblong black container. 

“Thith ith what took me two hourth.” He flips it open, revealing a pair of glasses similar to his, but squared off at the top. 

The lenses are tinted green, and the frame is two arms and a nosepiece, entirely omitting any wire around the lenses. He holds them out to you expectantly, pushing his shoes off with his opposite feet and pulling his legs up in the process. 

“Holy shit, dude, seriously?” You reach out, folding over the book page and slipping them on. 

Suddenly, the world is right again. It feels natural to see everything shaded green, the tint at the edges entirely gone. 

“Pretty much every pthionic hath a pair, tho.” He looks a bit flushed, but you’re not paying attention; what you are paying attention to is the lack of eye-strain. 

“I, uh. Wow, thanks.” You’re not sure what to say, but when you look back at him, your breath catches. 

He has this kind of goofy, genuine smile on, like you’ve almost never seen on him. It’s actually strangely adorable, the way his teeth stick out a bit and his eyes scrunch up. You get the sudden urge to lean over and kiss him. _No, Karkat. Down._

“Good thing you like them, ‘cauthe they aren’t the kind of thingth you can return.” He pulls the jacket he wore off, throwing it over the back of your couch. You sort of glare at him, and he smiles sweetly and does this _ridiculous_ head movement that send you into a fit of snorting and laughing. You punch him in the shoulder, and he starts up his nasally giggles. It’s unfairly fucking cute.

You suppose that hey, maybe his time here won’t really be that bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was written entirely in one day


	4. First Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What we've been waiting for, but not quite the way we wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAHA SORRY BOUT THIS CHAPTER LMAO
> 
> basically angst ahoy herE WE COME

The next night, the evening comes early and purposeful, beginning with Sollux waking you up and throwing something that may be considered breakfast at your head. You scarf down the snack cake, twitching in annoyance at the prickling under your skin, which seems to have grown in intensity. Your respect for Sollux is growing by the minute. You make your way to the ablution block, running a hand through your rumpled hair.

\---thirty minutes later

You’re standing outside your hive, and you almost don’t notice the pressure in your head, due to the fact that Sollux is pressed to your side, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Disappointingly, it’s not for any reason you’d prefer; he’s teaching you to “share power,” or funnel his psi through your body and use it to your advantage. Of course, knowing Sollux, you should have known that he’d do the same to you. His whole quid-pro-quo gig. 

The weird, gut-wrenching feeling, something like falling, is surging through you as his dichromatic psionics whirl about like a lightning storm, tinged and ran through with your lime green. 

It feels so _strange;_ it’s like something’s being pulled out of you, but it’s not quite unpleasant. It’s kind of... strangely intimate. You can - well, you can kind of feel _him,_ and what he’s doing, through the seventh sense that is your psi.

Sollux, however, seems to be having the time of his damn life; by your side, he’s laughing his weird snort-snicker laugh and grinning while expertly directing the psi into a swirling, colourful tornado around you. Your hair whips around, and despite the strangeness of it all, you can’t help but laugh a bit too. 

He starts edging back, shutting off the huge psionic flow bit by bit. By the time it’s off, your hair has been whipped into a spiral and your eyes are wide with awe. 

Sollux lets out a huge breath, huffing a small laugh, before he pulls away and turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. His face is about two inches from yours. His hair is wild, his eyes moreso behind the dichromatic lenses, and he’s grinning widely. You want to comment that he’s absolutely gorgeous like this, but you keep your mouth shut.

“That wath fucking awethome. You’ve gotta try it. Goddamn.” You snort at his excitement.

“You done that before?” His face falls slightly. 

“Nah. Aradia had pthi, but she was too low-level for it to be thafe. Didn’t want to fry her.” He laughs bitterly. “Didn’t thtave off the inevitable, though.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’th fine. I’m jutht -” He breaks off, hand on his head. “It’th fine. Your turn, anyway.”

You get back into position, reaching for your psi and gathering it in your hands. Sollux links his arm through yours, and you send a questioning glance his way.

"It'th eathier for me to break the connection thith way. Jutht in cathe one of uth getth overwhelmed or thomething." He furrows his brows as your psi swirls around your horns, and you think you can see his cheeks flush a bit yellow. You decide it’s probably the heat, of which there is none to speak of. 

You opt to let his mood run its course. Interfering isn’t going to bring any good to either of you. “Alright, so what am I doing again?”

“Reach out with your pthi and catch hold of mine. Right behind my hornth, remember, yeah?” His psi starts to spark around his horns.

You catch his eye, take a deep breath, and nod. Closing your eyes, you send out slightly jittery tendrils of green light toward the back of his horns, ‘feeling’ with a seventh sense where his psi was sparking from in much a more controlled, uniform fashion. Your breath stops, and you start threading your lime fire through his dichromatic light.

You gasp, hit with a huge rush. Your available power just fucking _doubled,_ literally, and you can hear the rush of blood in your ears. You can feel Sollux; not just his skin pressed into your side, but his entire _being,_ the reservoir behind the floodgates that is his psi. You can feel his nervous system, his bloodstream. You’re overwhelmed - how did he do this without being overwhelmed by the sheer gravity of it all?

You suck in a breath and swipe a hand around, opposite the way his whirlwind of psi was going, and a circle of green flames tinged with blue/red/purple starts spinning around you both. The psionic flames build, eventually coalescing into a fiery tornado around you and Sollux.

You are the flames, and at the same time you’re you and you’re inside Sollux, feeling his every breath and pump of his blood.

You decide, faintly, in the back of your mind, that this is the best thing you will ever experience.

You’re about to cut the stream, back off, when you feel his psi latch on to yours, and his blue/red lightning joins your lime fire.

You’ve never felt more connected to any other troll, perhaps excepting Gamzee; in a moment, you decide this exceeds Gamzee, and any experiences you might have had with him. No wonder red and black quadrants were considered the more powerful ones, the ones that could rip you apart and leave you hanging, open and torn.

You two are in perfect balance; pushing and pulling in tandem, spinning the vortex into a tight cylinder around you. You know what move he’ll make before he does, and you know how to respond in turn. 

With a dull shock, you realize you’re both a few feet off the ground, bound by your linked arms and swirling psi, bound by a force you both control equally, bound by the shared secret of your blood.

Your high peaks suddenly; you feel him tightening the throttle on his psi, and you react in kind. Slowly, you float to the ground, feet touching and final flickers of green and red/blue fading away. 

You’re both silent for a moment, until you feel your linked arms. Extracting your arm from his, he turns around, staring you in the eyes, and you’re unsure what to say.

He’s leaning forward - what is he doing? Surely not, he couldn’t be thinking of _that,_ \- and you’re leaning forward too, what are _you_ doing? 

Your lips are separated by a layer of breath and tension, and you decide, fuck it, it’s an opportunity.

He reciprocates when you catch his lips with yours, lacing an arm around your waist as you set a hand on his cheek, and you hum softly. 

His lips are warm, and surprisingly soft. The slight suction feels a bit like coming home, or maybe leaving it for the first time, you can’t tell. You feel like you’re falling again, but it’s a good thing. It’s a very, very good thing.

You pull away for a moment to breathe and look at each other through lidded eyes, before they meet again and you tilt your head, giving better access to him. Your lips part, and the two tips of his split tongue brush the tip of yours, and you’re never, _never_ forgetting this.

It’s all too soon when the high from the connection wears off, and you realize you’ll have to deal with the consequences of the past few minutes.

When you separate, you’re breathing hard, your face is flushed, and so is his. You both pull away from each other, almost hastily, turning slightly to the side and putting seven inches of safe space between you. 

He speaks first.

“We should probably - uh, probably go inthide,” he says softly, not meeting your gaze.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage.

\---the next day, or twenty-six hours later

You still haven’t spoken about the kiss.

You haven’t really spoken at all, seeing as Sollux ran the fuck off ten minutes after.

He had explained something about having to check on his mainframes, stammering and avoiding your eyes, before launching himself out of your window.

Ah, well. His portable husktop is still here, so you know he’ll come back. Probably.

That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve cried over that _stupid fucking asshole_ a total of four times in the day he’d been gone. 

What the hell had you done wrong?

\---USER SWITCH: SOLLUX CAPTOR---  
\---[Y]/N---  
\---ENTER PASSWORD---  
\---d**********c---

You are entirely certain that you fucked up big time.

You’d seen something on the dark web, something that seemed as though from one of Tavros’s fairy tales.

It’s said that if two psionic trolls are linked, they’d be able to join their powers and channel them equally, feeling the other and becoming essentially one troll in two bodies.

You, being the stubborn, fucked-up asshole that you are, decided you’d try this out.

You hadn’t expected the results, and you hadn’t expected what had happened after.

Now, you’re curled in a corner, biting angry tears back and trying to quiet the voices.

Oh, how you wish Aradia was here again.

You’re astonished by the sheer volume of fuck-uppery you can accomplish in a day; surely, it couldn’t get worse?

And yet, you realize you’ll have to face the goddamn music sooner or later. 

It’s been a whole fucking day and night, and you’ve scarcely moved from your corner. KK must be flipping his shit right now.

With a sigh, you drag yourself to the ablution block, swallowing some migraine pills you’d gotten from a shop on the dark web. You make your way into your respite block, changing clothes quickly and opening your window before launching yourself out of it and back toward Karkat’s hive.

\---twenty minutes later

You float cautiously through KK’s window, steeling yourself for what was to come.

“KK?” you ask softly.

He stirs from his place on the sofa, twisting around to look at you. His eyes are puffy, and his face red - oh, god. You really did fuck up. _You did this._

“Glad to see you made it back.” He sounds bitter, and justifiably so.

“I jutht -” You float over, landing gently near him and gingerly sitting as far from him as possible on the sofa. 

“You just what, Sollux? What is there to fuckin’ say?” His southern-plains accent shows when he’s upset, and it tears a hole straight to your bloodpusher.

“Fuck, KK. I’m tho fucking thorry. I should have know what the hell I wath doing; that wath way irrethponthible of me, and probably thuper taxthing on you, and I jutht -”

“Sollux, I couldn’t give two flying fucks about the psionic bullshit that happened.” He interrupts you, glaring at you from across the furniture. Your breath hitches, and your chest tightens. _He hates you. Not even romantically; he just wants you out of his damn life. Who could blame him?_ “I’m talking about what happened after.”

“What -”

“How you kissed me. Or kissed me back, fuck, I dunno. You got my fuckin’ hopes up, you made me think, hey, maybe I have a damn chance! And then, you fuckin’ break my bloodpusher. You just up and launch yourself out of my damn window, like nothing fuckin’ happened, leaving me here, and I can’t help but think, what the hell did I do wrong? How did I fuck up?” His voice is raw, and you’re in shock. “So I’m here fucking bawling over some guy that I’ve been horns-over-heels for since I was seven, and he doesn’t have the courtesy to even come back and troll up and talk to me for a whole damn day.” He pauses in his wild gesticulating, looking toward you. His face is contorted into something between rage and sorrow, and you can’t blame him. “What the hell did I do wrong?” It comes out as a whisper and stabs you in the fucking bloodpusher.

“KK, Karkat, fuck, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m jutht a fuckin’ athhole and I fucked up. I’m thorry, I’m thorry, Jethuth.” Your face is in your hands and you hear a choked sob from his end.

Getting up, you approach him cautiously, tentatively stretching a hand out to stroke his hair. He snarls at you, but doesn’t move to stop you. 

You sit down beside him, and thread an arm around his shoulders. Without warning, he turns and pushes you back, holding on to you for dear life as he cries. You didn’t notice the wet tracks on your cheeks, but they’re there, and you shove your face into his shoulder.

You’ve got to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haHEhah this was mostly written at 1:30 am leave me alone


	5. Level Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a kind of consummation, you suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what you all have been waiting for
> 
> this is totally not over, i promise. this is just a little filler thing for ur enjoyment, with a shitton of fluff and also, it's literally half smut. ahah. ahahah.
> 
> yeah this is just our sparky psionic boys fucking.
> 
> mind the rating change, friends.
> 
> ALSO: follow me on tumblr for more art and updates on the state of the fic!!! zukoiisms.tumblr.com there's a tag on tumblr for this fic too, if you wanna post anything for it :ooo tumblr.com/search/user-discretion-advised 
> 
> THANK U FOR READING :ooo

It’s a few minutes, or maybe hours, before you’ve both calmed down enough to extricate your limbs from each other’s. 

He speaks first.

“So was there a reason behind blasting the fuck off and leaving me here?” He’s still hurt. God dammit, Sollux. You really fucked up this time.

“I -” you start, stuttering a bit. “You know me, KK. I freaked the hell out and I wathn’t sure I could handle thith shit. Obviouthly that wath the abtholute wortht thing I could pothibly do, conthidering the thircumthtanthes, but y’know. It should probably be in every thcoolfeeding texthtbook there ith - ‘Tholluxth Captor ith a major atth and should not be truthted with anything contherning emotionth, ever, becauthe he’ll fuck it up in the motht thpectacular way pothible.” You laugh nervously, putting a hand on the back of your neck and looking away.

He’s silent for awhile. You’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re still, oh, three inches away from each other, at most. 

“Think about that next time, you asshole.” He leans back, suddenly unsure. “So...” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Where do we stand?” The question catches you off-guard, stunning you for a moment. You would have assumed that it was obvious...?

“Ithn’t that obviouth, KK?” He looks uncertain again, oh shit. “I mean, I - I obviouthly have thome flavour of emotionth toward you, if the fact that I practically initiated that shit ith any indicator.” You’re speaking a bit fast. He still has that uncertain look. Does he really think you’re not horns-over-fucking-heels for him? Damn. “Jethuth, KK. I’m flushed for you, you athhole. I dunno how it wathn't obviouth.” You shrug as relief melts the hard lines in his face. 

“Then if that’s settled -” he catches your eyes and leans in close to you, intently gazing through his glasses. “- do you think we could try that again?”

“Hell yeth.” You grin, and this time, when your lips touch, there’s nothing about it that feels unreal, there’s no uncertainty or hesitation. It’s real, it’s amazing, and you definitely want more of this. 

He’s a bit cooler than you - his blood runs two degrees lower, and it’s noticeable against your flushed lips. His hands come up to meet the sides of your face, caressing your jaw and cheekbones and neck. You tilt your head and rest one hand on his neck, thumb flicking near his ear and over a small gold ring through it. You smirk; that’s kind of hot, as well as undeniably KK. 

Your lips part as he slides forward, placing his knees on either side of your hips. You smirk and push your tongue into his mouth, probing gently, until - 

Oh, holy _shit._ Is that a goddamn tongue piercing?

You shudder when you realize that yes, yes it is. The thought shoots straight to your nook, and you try to muffle a moan, but it just comes out softly and quietly. You can feel him smirk, the little shit.

One of his hands trails down your neck and over your chest, down your side to rest at your hip as he parts for a moment. “Like it?” he breathes.

“God, yeth,” you whisper back as you run your hand down his side, slipping your it up under his shirt. He grins, tilting his head and sealing your lips again. As your tongues slip against each other, the small metal ball sends shivers down your spine and through your bulges, which are slowly becoming interested in the current situation.

His hips roll into your lap, and a muffled huff escapes your lips. At least you’re not the only one here who’s hot and bothered - from the bulge in Karkat’s pants, and the slight movement there, you can tell he wants this just as much as you.  
Before it can go anywhere, though, Karkat’s yanking you up and dragging you toward his respite-block. “I - hwa -” is pretty much all you can manage at this point.

“This isn’t happening on my couch, loser. We’re doing this shit right.” You flush, stammering assent and stumbling along behind him. Oh, god, you’re literally a blushing virgin.

Karkat shoves you through his respite-block door, shoving you up against a wall as soon as you’re through. When your lips crash together again, it’s fervent and rushed, and lips are being bitten and you’re whining, high-pitched. When he pulls away, nipping down your jawline and sucking at your neck, you let out a shrill warble, a sound you’d heard countless times from terrible porn but never expected to hear from your own throat, your evolutionary marker for utter submission.

His answering growl shoots down your spine and into your bulges, pheromones flooding your senses; his hands are around your hips and now they’re under your waistband, unbuckling your belt and pulling your jeans from your hips. His teeth are posed threateningly above your jugular, but at this point it’s less terrifying and life-threatening and more of an _oh god please_ situation.

His teeth break skin, tongue smoothing over the abrasion. The idea of him marking you, claiming you is so strangely _arousing; _you’re not sure why, but you like it. Your bulges are thrashing and you’re whimpering quietly. Karkat grins against your neck as he slips his hand beneath your boxers, fingers tangling with your bulges. He huffs out a laugh.__

__“Heh, I guess you weren’t lying, then,” he breathes into your ear as he twists both tendrils between his fingers._ _

__“Fuck nah,” you pant back. Your hands grip his shoulders, and you’re glad to hear he’s almost as breathless as you. “C’mon, KK, don’t jutht - hah - teathe me.” Your voice pitches up at the end, turning into a whine._ _

__“Well, damn, if you’re begging,” he says, and yanks your boxers down to your knees, dropping to his. You make a sort of questioning noise, before he puts his mouth on one of your bulges._ _

__Oh, _fuck,_ that feels good. The metal ball in his tongue seems to hit all your weak points, and you melt into a warbly, trilling mess, tangling your hands in his messy, curly hair, anchoring on his horns. At contact with the sensitive protrusions, he groans, low and gravelly, and the vibrations go straight through your bulge. You trill as he forces a hand between your thighs, stroking two fingers over your dripping nook and spreading the other over your abdomen, keeping your hips from bucking. His hand can almost stretch pinky-to-thumb across your whole pelvis, and if the fact that he’s keeping your _entire body_ from moving with one arm isn’t the hottest thing he’s done yet, you don’t know what is._ _

__When he shoves two fingers into your nook, you practically shriek and tremble and your hips try to buck against his hand. He just presses back harder, and you’re certain there’ll be five bruises there in the morning. You’re not sure why you’re so shockingly turned on by that, but you’re going to file that away for later use._ _

__His mouth leaves your bulges, and you whine a little as he stands up and takes his hand from your nook before you realize he’s ditching his pants. You step out of a leg of your jeans and grab his hips when his jeans are down, hissing when your bulges twine together. You hear a growl hitch in his throat and a moan stutter out. He decides to stop fucking around, though, and hooks his arms beneath your knees, in one fell swoop lifting you up, hooking your knees behind his back, and grinding your nook against his bulge. He’s so fucking _cut,_ it’s not fair. You warble loudly, and as his thick bulge wriggles and twists, sliding slowly into your nook._ _

__You cry out shrilly as he stretches the walls of your nook, his slowly undulating bulge sending shockwaves through your body. Karkat’s hands are wrapped around your hips, tight enough to bruise, and you’re pressed against the wall, and no one ever told you sex was going to be this amazing._ _

__His claws are digging into your skin, and when his hand slips and leaves four claw-slices down your side, you warble, blue and red sparks racing up your horns.. Oh, of _course_ you had to be a literal damn masochist._ _

__Karkat looks up in hazy concern, green flowing from the corners of his eyes. He almost pulls his hand back, but you place yours over his and stutter out, “No, hah, it’th good, it’th really - hnn - good,” and he sort of looks at you in wonder before slicing three new cuts down your other side, beginning to thrust into you._ _

__Your head rolls back, psi involuntarily crackling, and you let out a choked sob. You can see a grin slowly sliding over his flushed face as he digs his claws into your back and pumps in and out, leaning forward and clamping his teeth on your shoulder._ _

__Oh, fuck, you’re so fucking _close,_ it’s barely been any time, but from the kind of sounds Karkat is making, you think he is, too. _ _

__He warbles quietly into your ear, and goddamn if that isn’t the most beautiful sound. “KK,” you breathe, “Karkat, I’m - fuck - I’m gonna -”_ _

__He nods, and it’s a shock when he doesn’t pull a pail over. That sends heat coursing through your system, and you shudder as you near the brink._ _

__He cries out roughly against your shoulder and rams into you one last time before coming hard, pulsing into you and filling you with cool red liquid, green psi pulsing beneath his skin and feeling like waves of fire against yours. Your breath catches and you choke out a sob, the sensation pushing you over the brink as he alights in green flame and you spark red and blue and come in long waves of yellow over his thighs._ _

__You shudder, breathing in Karkat’s scent, as you both come down from your high._ _

__He speaks first. “You’re pretty damn kinky, Sollux.” You smack his shoulder and grin._ _

__“Shut up, athhole. You’re carrying my ath to the ablution trap, if only for tearing my thideth up.” You giggle quietly and wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning all one-hundred-ten pounds of you on him._ _

__He snorts and - wow, holy fuck, he’s actually gonna carry you to the damn ablution trap. Holy fuck, this man is strong. You can feel his muscles shift under your arms and that is so, so exceedingly hot; you’re falling for him more and more each minute._ _

__When you get to the ablution trap, he lets you down slowly into the shower, and you wince at the sensation of fluid flowing out of you and the claw-marks on your sides protesting. Whatever, totally worth it._ _

__You catch guilt sliding over his face as he pulls the curtain and turns on the shower to a comfortable level. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. “Hey, KK,” you say softly._ _

__“I hurt you. I fucked up, I got carried away, I -” You shut him up by putting a hand over his mouth and snorting at him._ _

__“Karkat Vantath, if I didn’t want every thingle fucking thing that you gave me, you would have known. Apparently, I’m a kinky-ath mathochitht, you did exthactly what I wanted.” Your chest rumbles in a purr, and he answers hesitantly. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, you can clean them and bandage them and shit.”_ _

__He smiles weakly, turning to you and kissing you softly._ _

__You’re beginning to appreciate his little psionic explosion, since it brought you both to this point._ _

__\---two hours later_ _

__After an unproductive shower, you’re flopped on the sofa, watching some shitty movie or another with your - matesprit? You suppose he’s your matesprit now, - and getting grubcorn thrown at you whenever you complain. You’re basically just lying down, feet propped up on his lap._ _

__“For the last time, you tasteless shitboat, this movie is fucking cinema gold. Fuck off and pay attention.” He bounces a piece of grubcorn off your horn._ _

__“If thith ith what you conthider ‘thinema gold,’ I’m honethtly worried for you, KK. Thith hath about twenty-two too many shitty clicheth and tropeth. Theriouthly.” You snort as he smacks your shin._ _

__“Sollux. Your squawk gaper. Shut it.” He bounces another piece of grubcorn off your fang, and you snort and quiet down for now._ _

__You could really, really get used to this._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't write more than a sentence at a time while i was writing this y'all should be grateful


	6. IMPORTANT UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> updates on state of fic at erisol.co.vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on state of fic at erisol.co.vu

okay, guys, i'm here to say holy shit and thank you for sticking with this fic for so long if you're still here! and also to update you on the status of the future of this fic.

kiiiinda lied when i said it'd be a short hiatus. i've kinda been having a hella fucking hard time for the past couple months and man, shit has sucked. i haven't had the sheer mental energy to finish the next chapter. hooooowever i think i'm coming to a better place very soon.

but! my writing has changed ever so slightly. so, as things stand, i intend to start editing the past chapters of this fic first. keep tuned in, _minor_ but _important_ changes may happen. also, when the next official chapter's out, please please take the time to reread.

next! i hope to have a chapter out at least once a month, if not every two weeks. i'd like to schedule to publish a chapter every other sunday until this whole shindig is finished.

so this is gonna take a slightly different route than i'd first intended, but there is a guaranteed happy ending. i promise you. so for now! thanks guys, tune in soon for more dumb psionic boys being dumb!

((ps, please don't hate me too much if i fall behind. my mental state is constantly fucked up. don't quote me on these promises and i am so sorry if i fall behind.))


	7. Not A Real Chapter Im So Damn Sorry

so! its been like two years since ive updated this and...ive had thoughts.

this was written at a point in my life when i was... mostly stable? and projected a lot onto fictional characters to stay that way. im not that stable anymore, unfortunately, and for the past almost six months ive found it hard to get barely a couple sentences out, much less an entire fanfiction.

but! my thoughts are as follows:

don't get your hopes up, but if i can manage it, i want to wrap this up once and for all with one final, long chapter.   
again.   
don't get your hopes up.  
but i sure will try.   
<3  
thank you all so much for reading!


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